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by PacketofRedApples



Category: Alan Wake (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Filming, Gen, Major Original Character(s), Maybe - Freeform, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Sexual Bondage, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PacketofRedApples/pseuds/PacketofRedApples
Summary: Merris is getting close, Mr. Scratch is having fun with it.
Relationships: Mr. Scratch & OFC, Mr.Scratch/Merris Powell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nxcht](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nxcht/gifts).



> A little drabble I wrote for Nxcht after our little talk prompted by a video I shared... hehe. It isn't anything too big, but I wanted to share it cuz in this house we stan OCs!
> 
> Disclaimer: Merris belongs to Nxcht!

Merris’ arms were falling asleep… That’s the extent of this she was taking away. It increasingly seemed ridiculous how she got into this situation. Suspecting he slipped something in her drink as he offered it to her at his motel room. That had to be it, right? However, Night Springs was a strange place, so perhaps allowing odd possibilities was part of it. Perhaps it wasn’t drugs, but her head pounded like it was. She knew that the man before her introducing himself as the writer, Alan Wake, couldn’t be him unless he really went off-kilter…

Regardless, she snarled as he looked her over amused.

“How’s it hanging, Merris?” The suited man asked, leaning back on the bed in a very debaucherous manner, reminiscent of a dandy from the olden days. Something she’d seen in various movies, not something she had firsthand experience with till now, that is.

“This isn’t funny, Alan.” She mutters, before clearing her throat. “Let me go!”

“No, no. I think this suits you. Now if you only could stay quiet…” He muses, his mind wandering off for a second. Then he looks back at her, grinning. “I should get my camera.”

“Don’t you dare!” Powell was very well losing her patience. She thrashed slightly against the floor, trying to loosen the rope, but the binds were too tight. It wasn’t exactly the pain, per se, that was bothering her. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. It was that it was done against her will… It was shameful, and to make matters worse, he clearly had done this with enough care to not hurt her. Even if it was done tightly enough to prevent her from slipping out.

As she had tried to get out, the man had already wandered through his room and gotten his camera. He opened it up, messed around with some buttons, seemingly confused momentarily at it, and then directed the lens at her.

“Hey, Mer, this looks great on film.” He says as the light on the device begins to shine, clearly indicating it was recording.

“You’re not Wake, are you…?” She suddenly asks after a moment of staring at him, something scratching at the edge of her mind like she already knew this. His grin widens.

“Of course not, you’ve got to be an idiot to think that. But I’ll admit, I do play him well.” The reporter was oddly sure that if he could, he would have pat his own shoulder then. The pride on him was obvious, to a disgusting degree.

He walks around her, with the camera still directed at her, moving her slightly with his leg, to get some ‘better’ shots. Merris looks away from it, annoyed and frustrated beyond belief, this was repulsive. How could she fall for this so badly?

“Then who are you?” She looks at him as he squats down to film her face. Her eyes full of fury and glaring daggers into him.

“That’s for me to know and you to make up.” He says, nonchalant. He seemingly is enjoying this too much.

She’s about to say some more about what she thought of him (some not so nice things), but there’s a loud crash somewhere outside, far off to not cause too much noise but enough to be heard at the motel, and the suited man stands up, shutting off the camera. 

“That’s my cue.” He explains, placing the camera on a nearby surface. “Just hang in there, Merris, I’ll be back to you soon.” He smirks. “There’s still so much I need to learn. And you’re great practice.” He sing-songs as he exits through the door, shutting off the light. And before Merris can spit back a comment, it all goes even darker.

She doesn’t remember what happens after that…

///

Merris Powell stands near her car, at some motel. Another place that blends into one. Some desert. Familiar yet not at all. She feels like there’s something in her mind, warning her to run, but--

“Hey, you all right there?” A suited man approaches her, polite in his smile.

“Ye- yeah…” She replies, studying his features momentarily until a bingo moment strikes her. “Wait… I think I know you. You’re Mr. Wake.”


End file.
